


You Were Always Here (I Thought I Was Finished Searching)

by br0ken_hands



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Soul Mates AU, follows storyline until end of season 2, i guarantee happy endgame harpoe, if you stay on this fic for long enough you'll get endgame harpoe, otherwise its very monroe/sterling based in the beginning, season 3 spoiler free, there is lowkey angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0ken_hands/pseuds/br0ken_hands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monroe didn’t believe this. Zoe would have. Zoe believed that when she saw her soulmate, she would be able to see in colour. She would see the colour of the stars and of the Earth underneath her. She would be able to see the colour of her mother’s hair and the colour of her soulmate’s soft, soft lips. His blinding smile. His beautiful hair. Zoe believed this. Monroe didn’t.<br/>Well shit. Monroe was wrong. This was real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Always Here (I Thought I Was Finished Searching)

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this tumblr au:  
> AU where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate  
> ADDITIONALLY: when your soulmate dies, the world goes back to black and white
> 
> Also, I'm treating this as if we knew Monroe's first name since the beginning. I know it was given to her in the third season, but I wrote this imagining that the third season hadn't happened. Because of episode 6 and 7. In case it's confusing, Zoe and Monroe refer to the same person, but when she is displaying different characteristics.

Zoe is twelve when she first gets thrown in the Sky Box. It's dark and dreary and awfully grey, just like everything else in her life. Her first days there are spent in her cell, an empty one since she’s considered a violent offender, kicking at the cell door and pacing the floor. Her first days are spent in silence save the thunk of a slot opening and the slap of slop sloshing onto the serving tray. Her first days are spent learning not to grimace as the guard tightens the handcuffs too tight and holds her a little too low on her back as he walks her to the bathroom for her weekly showers. Her first days are spent learning that here, she’s not Zoe. Here, she’s Monroe. Monroe is feistier. Monroe is braver and stronger and everything Zoe needs to survive in here. She was afraid of Monroe at the beginning - after all, it was Monroe who got her here in the first place - but she grows to love her. Monroe has a survivalist’s mindset. Monroe can get her out of here.

It’s four months before she gets to mingle with the other delinquents. It’s four months before she can sit at the tables to eat with her fellow prisoners. It’s four months before she hears the whispers.

“I heard she’s here for killing three guards.”  
“No, it was two, wasn’t it? That’s what the guards told me.”  
A snort. “Would she have been in solitary for so long if it was just two?”

Monroe smiles to herself as she sits alone. No one has to know what she did. She’ll let them think what they will. The more dramatic, the better. No one needs to know why she did what she did. Not even her parents. It would be better that way.

Her face falls when two people drop their trays across from her. There’s a boy with brown floppy hair, thick eyebrows, and a solid jawline. Beside him is a blonde with her hair done in two different braids and a hairband.  
Wait. Blonde.  
Monroe takes a glance around her. Shit. She can see colour. When did she start seeing colour? The boy is wearing a dark blue jacket. The girl has brown eyes. Her own hair is red. ‘Hm. That’s a nice shade of red.’ Shit. When did she start seeing in colour? 

“Hey, you alright?” Asked the boy across from her.

Monroe looked at him bewildered. ‘He must be it’. Shit. Shit fuck.  
Monroe didn’t believe this. Zoe would have. Zoe believed that when she saw her soulmate, she would be able to see in colour. She would see the colour of the stars and of the Earth underneath her. She would be able to see the colour of her mother’s hair and the colour of her soulmate’s soft soft lips. His blinding smile. Zoe believed this. Monroe didn’t.  
Shit. Monroe was wrong. This was real.

The boy tries again. “Hi, I’m Sterling, and this is Harper,” The girl waves. “We saw you sitting alone - are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”

Monroe cocks her head to the side. It’s been awhile since she’s had contact with people other than guards. 

“No. Solitary. Just got permission to sit among the others. I’m Z- Monroe.” She answers curtly, eyes scouring the space around her. The walls were still gray, but... different. She couldn’t quite pinpoint how so, but they just were. She sees the guard posted at the balcony. His uniform is very dark. Almost black, but not quite. Again, it’s different from when she could only see in grayscale. It’s not vastly different like Harper’s hair colour but it’s different none the less. Monroe decides that she doesn’t like that colour. 

Stumped and confused by the girl’s seeming unwillingness to communicate, Sterling looks over to an equally wide-eyed Harper. She shrugs, and continues scooping at the watery gruel before her.  
Monroe looked down at her own plate. Oh goodness. It was much more appetizing before she saw the colour of it. Monroe pushed the plate away a little and looked at the two sitting across from her. “What do you want?”

Sterling shrugs. “To be your friend. Everyone here needs someone, Monroe.”  
Monroe stirs the paste in the tray before her. “I’ll think about it.”  
Zoe would have said yes. Zoe would have said yes in an instant, but Monroe? Monroe needed more information. What would she get out of this? Who benefits? Sometimes Monroe wishes she could bring Zoe back for a little bit. It would be less lonely down here.

\--

She’s seventeen when they send her down to earth with the rest of the delinquents. She’s seventeen and counting down the days until she turns 18. It’s 82 days exactly. When they come for her with the cuff, it takes her by surprise. She still has 82 days. 82 days to prepare for her inevitable execution. 82 days to say goodbye to Harper and Fox and Sterling. Sterling. When she wakes up on the drop ship, he is in the seat right next to her. She reaches over and clutches his hand. Though unconscious, he still helps Monroe relax in her seat. The bright red straps contrast with his blue jacket.  
On her other side, Harper stirs, blonde tresses falling over her face. 

“Harper!” Fox calls from across the ship, struggling against the restraints that bind her to the wall. 

Harper raises her head groggily. “Where are we?” She asks, her voice shot and cracked.

Just then, Jaha’s face appears and the dropship goes silent as the gravity of what is happening sinks in. Monroe doesn’t stop stroking her thumb over Sterling’s hand, even as he wakes up halfway through the landing, screaming.

Monroe shares a tent with Sterling. It’s the easy choice. Harper and Fox are the tent right next to them, and Bellamy and Clarke take charge. It’s easy. It’s easier than she would have expected. Zoe is elated. Monroe is not quite so. She worries. She looks into the forest and knows that there are things that they have missed. Things that are going to happen that will shatter this picture perfect dream.  
When Bellamy demands that the delinquents remove the wristbands for food, Zoe resists. She knows that this is her last connection to the Ark. Her last connection to her parents. She wants to keep it. But Monroe knows that Bellamy is right. They won’t be forgiven. She’ll still have blood on her hands. Monroe gets the wristband off. Monroe gets her food so she can survive. Zoe cries a little that night, but Monroe simply rolls over, kisses Sterling goodnight, and goes to sleep. 

She wakes up early in the morning to Harper burrowing into her back.  
“Fox talks in her sleep” She mutters, curling up tightly.  
Zoe sighs, turns away from Sterling’s back and wraps an arm around Harper’s waist, pulling her closer. “Get under the sleeping bag, idiot. You’ll freeze.”  
Harper is asleep minutes later.

The second time she wakes up, it’s to Fox unzipping the door to the tent. Beside her, Sterling groans at the intrusion, covering his eyes at the sudden bright light.  
“Ah, there you are, Harper. I was looking for you!” Fox chastises, a smirk on her lips.  
Monroe blinks blearily at the taller girl, taking note of her soft smile. She looks down as Harper harrumphs into her chest, rubbing sleep from her eyes.  
“Let’s go, Harper. Bellamy is forming a militia and I want to be on it!”  
Monroe sits up straight. “Militia? Like, an armed task force?”  
Fox shrugged. “I guess so. Come on, Harper!” she says as she skips away.

Harper groans and rolls out of the sleeping bag. “Thanks, Monroe. I’ll catch you later.”  
“Yeah, sure.” The redhead mutters, combing her fingers through unruly curls.  
Sterling presses as kiss to her shoulder. “Good morning, ‘Roe.”  
Monroe grunts in return, before pulling on a jacket and braiding her hair. “So. Bellamy’s militia...”  
“Yes?”  
“I think we should join. It would give us an edge in survival since Bellamy’s in charge. Gets us on his good side.”  
Sterling rolls out of the tent, sticking his feet into his boots. “Okay. I’ll go tell Bellamy.” 

\--

The first sign that things are about to change comes with Murphy bringing the virus to camp. First it was Murphy, then Derek. Soon enough, Fox staggers across the campground, collapsing and spewing blood all over the 100. Screams break out, and Monroe runs to hold Fox in her arms. The male delinquent is more than ready to throw the limp body at her, and Monroe cradles her closely as Bellamy tells Clarke her quarantine isn’t working. Fox is hacking again, making choking noises. Monroe quickly rolls her on her side as the brunette vomits blood in a pool beside her head.  
Zoe gently strokes Fox’s face, humming quietly.  
“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you, Fox, I’ve got you.”  
The rest of camp avoids them for several hours, paranoid of catching the virus. All the while, Zoe caresses Fox’s heated forehead and giving her small sips of cool water.

The second time something goes down, Monroe is fighting for her life. ‘Fuck’ she thinks as she sits in the foxhole, carrying the gun in her hands. When she had signed up to be part of the militia she thought she would be getting first dibs on their hunting kills - not shoot at strafing grounders in the trees. She lets rip, missing every single moving body.  
“Stop shooting, they’re getting us to waste our bullets!” Jasper’s voice cuts through the forest, shocking Monroe to her senses. Beside her, Sterling twitches fearfully. Bellamy sits where his sister was moments ago before she took off. 

When the grounders come, Monroe is already gone, pulling Sterling with her into the forest. Zoe would have stayed with the delinquents. Zoe would have stayed behind the walls, helping to barricade the walls. But this is Monroe in charge now. Monroe keeps herself alive. Monroe runs. Monroe ignores Miller calling for her to come back. Monroe runs, and Monroe survives. Later, Zoe asks what happened to Harper and Fox and the rest of the 100. Later, Zoe cries.

 

When they find the crashed station, Monroe’s heart sinks a little. There is nothing to be found in the wreckage save some fuel. No survivors. No parents. Her parents are dead. They’ll never know what happened to her. They’ll never know that she was innocent. They’ll never know... Zoe’s heart sinks a little as the group begins the trek out of the crash site. The faint voice over the cliff stops them, however, and Sterling reacts quickly.  
“Mel! Mel! Hold on, we’re coming to get you!”  
Zoe holds her breath has her boyfriend scales the cliff, getting closer to the distraught Factory Station girl. Her family. Mel. Her best friend from before the Box. Her heart leaps into her throat when she catches movement from the corner of her eyes, and by then, it’s too late to react. She watches in horror as Sterling screams, dropping to the bottom of the ravine, horrifyingly still. Zoe wants to throw up. She wants to cry, to scream, to save him. Sterling. Shit. He’s dead. She feels Murphy's hand on her shoulder, but she’s distraught. Sterling is dead and her childhood best friend is a slip away from joining him at the bottom of the cliff. 

Zoe’s still looking at Sterling’s body when another rope made of belts is thrust into her hands and Bellamy clambers down the cliff. She takes the rope and wraps it tightly. She won’t fail them again. She refuses to fail. Monroe holds on with all her might, tugging with all her might. When Bellamy gives the signal, she pulls hard, heels digging into the crumbly dirt. She failed Sterling, she won’t fail Bellamy or Mel.

When the buckles snap, Monroe nearly collapses. Murphy’s quick reaction saves the two dangling off the cliff’s face, and the scream dies on Monroe’s tongue, replaced by a hasty warning as arrows pierce the ground around them. The gun is in her hands in seconds and she doesn’t care about the arrows flying around her, she pulls the trigger as hard as possible. She lost Sterling today, she won’t lose Bellamy and Mel, no, they will live! The gun’s recoil kicks against her shoulder as she fires into the trees, each impact tousling her intricate braids. A sudden pain in her thigh forces her to drop the gun as she clutches her leg in agony. The arrow in her thigh sticks out angrily, taunting her. Monroe had to get up. Monroe had to pick up the gun and save her friends. Monroe had to - 

The fog warning cuts through the air and suddenly the hail of arrows stop. Bellamy and Mel make it over the edge with ragged breaths, and they’re about to take cover from the fog when Octavia appears. Octavia with her beautiful braids and dark jacket, and the promise of salvation. Monroe lets her bandage the arrow wound, staring at her bright green eyes.  
Shit. Green. Monroe lets out a soft gasp, and Octavia looks up in concern.  
“You okay?”  
Monroe wants to throw up. Sterling is dead. But Sterling was her soulmate. The world should be black and white but...  
What if Sterling wasn’t her soulmate? What if she had been looking to the wrong person the entire time? What if...  
“Monroe!” Octavia’s voice cuts through the silence.  
Finn looks over and gives an understanding sad smile.  
Monroe wants to throw up. Monroe wants to cry, to scream. For the first time, she can’t tell whether she is being Monroe or Zoe in the moment.

\--

She marches into Mount Weather knowing that nothing but pain and suffering existed inside. Yes, she is angry that Lexa had traded them for her people, but a small part of her holds out hope. Hope that she would see Fox and Harper again. Hope that she could find who it was that put colour into her world. She caught sight of flickering lights before a burlap sack was pulled over her head and she was pulled into the darkness of the halls.

Zoe’s heart lifts a little when she sees Harper’s beautiful blonde hair, messy, but still beautiful. Her face is gaunt and she’s trembling like a leaf, but she’s here. She’s alive. Zoe looks around the room for Fox, but there’s no sign of her. Shit. No Fox. Her thoughts are disturbed when Raven is pulled onto the table and the sound of a saw scratches her eardrums. What happens next is unforgivable.  
Throughout it all, her eyes are locked on Harper’s. The empty, soul-devoid eyes, haunted by what had happened and was happening again before her. The tears that trickled from the corner of her eyes when Raven screamed. 

When they leave the mountain, Zoe carries Harper home in her arms.

\--

It takes three months for Harper to walk again. Those three months are spent waking up to Harper screaming, covered in a thin film of cold sweat in the dead of night as evil men in her dreams cut into her with their wretched razors and drew out the marrow. Those three months are spent gently helping her out of the sleeping bag and brushing tangled hair back to wash and twist into long braids. Those three months are spent holding her hand tightly as Abby checks the wounds and changes the bandages on the medical table. Those three months are spent realizing, slowly, that it wasn’t Sterling that gave her colour in her life, but rather, the blonde haired girl who sat down across from her more than six years ago.

“What’s on your mind, ‘Roe?” Harper asks one night, her chin tucked into the nook between Zoe’s neck as they lay in bed.  
Zoe turned to look at the woman beside her. It had been a long time since they had fallen out of the sky and landed onto earth. Monroe hated how Harper still walked with a limp and still had nightmares, but the progress she had made since being taken out of Mount Weather with tears streaking down her face was amazing.  
“I think I was wrong when I thought Sterling was my soulmate.” She whisperes, voice cracking, “I think I know now. It was you all along, wasn’t it?”  
Harper nods, quietly, tears forming. “Since I sat down at that table and realized how beautiful your green eyes and red hair was. It was always me.”  
Zoe brushes away a stray hair on Harper’s face. “Why not tell me?” She asks, her voice hushed.  
“You were so happy with Sterling. You were his soulmate. He told me, later, that suddenly he had seen an explosion of colour. He told me how happy it made him, how fulfilled he was.” Harper looks down, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, “I knew that you were it for the two of us, and one of us would end up broken-hearted. I would do anything for you, Monroe. Forsaking my happiness for yours was the easiest choice I ever had to make.”  
Zoe holds her hands lightly. “It’s Zoe. My name is Zoe. That’s what I called myself before the Box. Before earth.”  
Harper smiles up at her. “Can I kiss you, Zoe?” She whispers, voice throaty and hushed.  
Zoe blinks slowly and grins. The warm brown eyes looking back at her are the prettiest in the world. Gentle, caring, and full of life. “Easiest choice I ever had to make” She whispers, before closing the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> Totally un-beta'ed so there will likely be some mistakes. Super stoked you dropped by!


End file.
